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The only thing I want from Santa

Yariel Valdés González remains in ICE custody in La.

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Yariel Valdés González, a Washington Blade contributor from Cuba who remains in U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement custody in Louisiana, holds a “freedom” bracelet during a video call with Blade International News Editor Michael K. Lavers on Dec. 4, 2019. (Screenshot courtesy of Michael K. Lavers)

Editor’s note: Yariel Valdés González is a Washington Blade contributor who won political asylum in the U.S. on Sept. 18. He remains in U.S. Immigrations and Customs Enforcement custody at Bossier Parish Medium Security Facility in Plain Dealing, La., because ICE has appealed Judge Timothy Cole’s ruling in his favor.

PLAIN DEALING, La. — In my homeland of Cuba, Santa Claus has never been very recognizable. The Communist dictatorship does not think much of this fat and jolly character who it says only indoctrinates children in order to cover up the “capitalist consumerism” the U.S. sustains. Cuban children and adults, nevertheless, adore the Christmas spirit that Santa brings each December. We decorate trees, we get together to eat and share with family and even the little ones — and others not so much — receive and give presents to each other before the end of the year or on Epiphany. Stores in Cuba, which are all run by the government, are, contradictorily, decorated with lights and fake pine trees not for Christmas, but to celebrate the end of the year and to mark a new anniversary of the Cuban revolution’s triumph on Jan. 1.

This is what matters!

The regime maintains its anti-Christmas façade, a kind of “parallel world” in which it only lives because Cubans are tired of such a false and ridiculous display. So much so that I had to bite my tongue (not literally, of course) many times while working as a radio presenter in my city because I could never mention the world “Christmas.” This vocabulary provoked and to this day provokes terror among the directors of any official media outlet, where you cannot legitimatize this anti-Communist tradition. Santa never appeared on Cuban television or in newspapers. The spirit of Santa, to the government, and all that it represents brings with it too many frivolities that are typical of the “enemy of the North” and can ideologically “contaminate” the people. Cuban Christmas is a bit clandestine, quasi-illegal, underground, present for the people and non-existent to those who govern the country. My Cuba is so complex and ambivalent. Despite this reality, I always enjoyed Christmas in my own way in my country. It was an opportunity to visit my family and partner and surround myself with feelings of happiness and love. I am, however, looking forward to my first Christmas in the U.S. and not just for the presents as many may think.

A Christmas tree in a Havana church in December 2018. (Washington Blade photo by Michael K. Lavers)

I came to this country at the end of March to ask for political asylum because of the persecution that I suffered in Cuba as an independent journalist. I faced work and ideological sanctions in the island’s official press, expulsion from the state-run media system, interrogations and arbitrary detentions, travel bans that did not allow me to leave the country for journalism events. State security officials also carried out voracious and excessive interrogations against my family and friends in my neighborhood. All of this is part of a strategy to persecute and instill fear against independent reporters, those who can neither be controlled nor censured. Freedom of expression, and freedom of press even more so, does not exist in Cuba. Only the Communist Party, with an absolute reign of more than 60 years, is responsible for controlling each written and spoken word. The relationship between the party and media is like the relationship between a master and slave. The consequences will clearly be harsh if you don’t follow orders. These are the rules of this unjust and totalitarian power game.

I was able, with a lot of luck, to escape such a hell and on Sept. 18, six months after I arrived in this country, Judge Timothy Cole determined I was worthy of asylum. He granted me the protection for which I had searched so much and for which I fled my country, leaving behind my family, my boyfriend, my friends and colleagues who are still living through a real witch hunt for the simple reason of telling the truth about Cuba.

Repression against independent Cuban media professionals has increased to extremely worrying levels with house arrests, illegal detentions that last several days, physical and psychological violence, registration and confiscation of work equipment, assaults and personal threats or those made on social media by an army of digital combatants who engage in so-called cyberbullying.

Prohibitions on traveling from the island to professional events and conferences under the absurd pretext the independent press is doing the bidding of foreign powers that finance it to force a regime change in Cuba and other barbarities have also increased. This and much more is what awaits me if I am forced to return to Cuba. The possibility of being deported is once again hanging over my head after ICE appealed the asylum granted to me in September. I remain incarcerated at this moment while an appeals court (the Board of Immigration Appeals), comprised of three judges in Virginia, considers my case for a second time.

My life and my future is literally in their hands.

Maykel González Vivero, director of Tremenda Nota, the Washington Blade’s media partner in Cuba, visits the Blade’s offices in D.C. on June 2, 2019. The Cuban government earlier this month prevented González from leaving the country. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

Many people may think I am too dramatic, but those who think differently than the Cuban dictatorship and publicly show it in digital journalism outlets unleash the most ferocious anger.Us freelancers are considered a “national security threat,” dangerous and subversive traitors who don’t even deserve the air they breathe and the punishment will be double if they are part of the LGBTQ community because the island recently has not been afraid to reveal itself as it truly is: An intolerant and homophobic tyranny. The government has deemed me persona non-grata because of my collaboration with publications branded “counterrevolutionary and subversive” like Tremenda Nota, the Washington Blade’s media partner in Cuba, CubaNet and others like YucaByte or this weekly, whose international news editor, Michael K. Lavers, is on the list of those who are “prohibited” from entering the country. I am afraid of how I will be treated if I were to set foot on the island. You can rest assured that I would have never given up my mom’s hug or my elderly grandparents’ affectionate kiss if my fundamental rights as a human being were not viciously trampled and my life was not in danger. I guess it was a survival instinct that made me close my eyes and suddenly abandon these bonds of blood and love.

I have fought for my salvation from inside a prison for nearly eight months. From detention at the Bossier Parish Medium Security Facility in Louisiana, the Deep South, I intend to remain optimistic and keep the faith, even though my hope withers a little with each passing day of this confinement. The constant support of my family in Miami and Cuba, my lawyer, as well as my closest friends and colleagues in this country and on the island are the only things that have kept me from an emotional collapse and a dead end.

Each night before I go to sleep I pray that justice will once again be done, because these judges are considering whether I deserve the opportunity to live without fear in this great nation. I only hope they uphold Judge Cole’s decision that he issued more than two months ago. It would be, without a doubt, the best gift that I could receive this Christmas. Like an excited child, I hope Santa Claus brings his sled to Louisiana and gives me the only present for which I fervently ask each minute: Freedom.

Freedom!

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‘Hidden in Plain Sight:’ The story of Odessa Madre

A queer U Street criminal, entrepreneur, and wealthy Black woman

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(Poster via Eventbrite)

The liquor was flowing, the dice were rolling and the women were plentiful. Down on 14th Street in the U Street corridor in 1946, at Club Madre, your thirst could be quenched and your vices satisfied. At the center of it all was a large, dark-skinned woman whose taste for mink, money, and power made her larcenous — and legendary.

Look at photos of Odessa Madre, clothed head-to-toe in fur, hair freshly curled, and her eyes dared you to question her prowess. Her mischievous smile suggested she knew something you didn’t. Here was one of the most successful women in Washington, D.C. — and yet most Washingtonians have never heard of her. Why?

Madre was a big-time numbers runner during the 1930s, ‘40s, and ’50s, when the illegal lottery was booming. For Black Washingtonians, the underground lottery offered a chance to get ahead economically when segregation made legitimate financial advancement nearly impossible. Those who ran the game always seemed to be making money — and Madre was one of the most successful, with the hustle, resources and smarts to become one of the richest women in the city. Yet she nearly became a footnote in D.C. history, remembered mostly by a small plaque on U Street where her mugshot is captioned: “This was D.C.’s Al Capone.”

Why does someone like her nearly disappear from history? And when someone is erased — what is lost?

Madre graduated from Dunbar High School, the segregated school for African Americans renowned for producing students who went on to earn advanced degrees and returned to teach. The expectation was that if you looked and spoke the “right” way, a respectable job — teaching, civil service — awaited. Those jobs were also often reserved for women who fit a certain mold. As Professor Sharon Harley writes in “Sister Circle: Black Women and Work,” Madre’s turn to criminal life was fueled in part by “deep feelings of rejection by the Washington color-conscious Black middle class.” She didn’t fit the mold. So she built her own path.

She aligned herself with people she was never supposed to befriend — Italian and Irish men who ran the city’s underworld — and turned selling moonshine into a calling card. Childhood friends who became police officers looked out for her, and she looked out for them.

Madre never married and had no interest in men. She kept a steady crew of attractive women close, and accounts suggest she had relationships with women — relationships that would hardly have been acknowledged publicly at the time. Her rejection of the era’s social expectations meant she was never bound by a marriage that could have curbed her ambition, or a divorce that could have wrecked her financially. Her independence gave her a level of control over her life that few women of her era experienced.

Eventually, police stings, betrayals and a government eager to legalize the lottery for itself squeezed the life out of the underground game. Madre’s luck ran out. She died penniless — her funeral paid for by street friends and a detective or two who had quietly admired her hustle for years.

Why does any of this matter? Because it’s a clear-eyed look at what it takes to chase the American Dream when the front door is locked. History can be ugly — but sanitizing it doesn’t make it less true.

Odessa Madre was a criminal, entrepreneur, hustler, queer woman, Dunbar graduate, numbers runner, wealthy Black woman, friend to police, lawbreaker and product of segregation — all at once. 

Her story is a reminder that the truth about Jim Crow, and who survived it and how, is more complicated — and more honest — than any diluted version of history could be.

My documentary, “Odessa’s Reign,” is an attempt to give her the fuller portrait she never received in her lifetime. Madre’s path challenges us to think about identity, place and memory: who gets remembered, and why their stories matter.


Robin Hamilton is a filmmaker and journalist and director of ‘Odessa’s Reign.’ There will be a screening and community conversation, ‘Hidden in Plain Sight: The Story of Odessa Madre,’ on Friday, Oct. 30 at Busboys and Poets at 14th and V streets, 6-8:30 p.m. Learn more at www.aroundrobin.com.

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Solidarity beyond the parade: the actual cost of Pride

Chandreyi Guharay spoke with activists at World Pride in Amsterdam

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The World Pride Human Rights March took place in Amsterdam on Aug. 8, 2026. A loss of global funding has had a significant impact on the LGBTQ rights movement around the world. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

Editor’s note: Chandreyi Guharay is the global advocacy officer for Walking the Talk. She spoke with queer activists from around the world at World Pride 2026 in Amsterdam about the impact of shrinking aid.

Queer activists and Dutch NGOs gathered at Amsterdam City Hall as part of “Building Bridges,” a World Pride 2026 visitor program for LGBTIQ+ community leaders run by the Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs and COC Nederland.

Pride is every day, everywhere

Although we were in Amsterdam, the work back home never stops for activists. Enkhmaa Enkhbold, executive director of the LGBT Center in Mongolia, excused themself a couple of times to check their phone.

“We’re organizing Pride in Mongolia, and it’s happening in two weeks,” they explained.

Among many other things, their organization drives policy advocacy and movement building for LGBTIQ+ rights, and helps queer people facing persecution find a safe way out.

John Mathenge Mukaburu is also doing the daily work of resistance. His organization HOYMAS in Kenya runs clinics across three counties, serving almost 20,000 patients from key populations, including gay and bisexual men and sex workers. In Nigeria, Cosmas Osinachi Ihenacho-Herbert, program director at Obodo, shared how they are changing the narrative by elevating the leading role queer people play in shaping art and culture across the country and the African continent.

And in Vietnam, Nguyễn Diệu Anh co-founded Yêu-nữ (Women Living Wicked), a sapphic collective that hosts regular gatherings where women have a place to find joy and each other. Whether it’s healthcare, protection, culture or belonging, these efforts keep communities alive. Still, they have never been properly funded.

Less funding, more backlash 

As an advocate for gender equality and a queer activist myself, I know how much LGBTIQ+ movements do with so little. Even before the dismantling of the U.S. Agency for International Development and the funding cuts across other major donor countries, just $.04 cents of every $100 in Official Development Assistance (ODA) went to queer communities. Now even that is rapidly disappearing. And what little there is doesn’t land evenly. As trans activist Marcela Morales from Asociación Lambda in Guatemala emphasized: “Most of the funding goes to gay men’s and trans women’s organizations. Very little reaches organizations of trans men and LBQ women.”

But this isn’t just about money. The same politics driving these cuts are shrinking civic space everywhere. Anti-rights actors are growing richer and bolder, finding new ways to target LGBTIQ+ people, as my colleague Jordan Dittmar has written. Queer and feminist activists defend the right to protest, to speak and love freely, to put care for people and the planet at the center and to decide over our own bodies and lives. And yet our rights are always the easiest target, and our funding the first to be cut. We are the canary in the coal mine, and everyone else’s freedoms are never far behind. That should worry all of us.

A lifeline built on solidarity

Bessy Ferrera was a trans activist from Honduras who fought for the rights of trans people, sex workers and people living with HIV, and whose life was violently cut short in 2019. A year later, Hivos established the Bessy Ferrera Emergency Fund in her name. It offers fast, practical help to LGBTIQ+ activists facing threats because of their work, from medical and legal costs to security and relocation. Since 2022, it has helped nearly 100 people and organizations around the world.

When I mentioned the fund to Ribal Maatouk, national chairperson of the LGBTIQ+ Task Force in Lebanon, he told me he already knew it well. Through Israel’s devastating invasion and war, the Task Force, alongside its member organizations, notably specialized local LGBTIQ+ CSOs, have continued to provide humanitarian support to queer people.

“From all the funding initiatives, the Bessy Ferrera Fund was the most easily accessible for our community, allowing for a faster deployment of emergency support than other organizations,” he said. “I need to give credit where it’s due.”

Hope for the long haul

Emergency funds provide a vital lifeline during a crisis, but activists and their movements also need lasting support. For Cosmas, the lesson is hopeful: governments change with elections, and funding changes with them, but movements can outlast both. For activists in the Global South, that has often been the reality.

“Maybe the question is not how we survive this crisis,” he said, “But how we build a movement infrastructure that’s strong enough for us to thrive through whatever comes next.”

He also sees an opening: with the U.S. stepping back, the Netherlands could once again be the champion of gender equality and LGBTIQ+ rights it used to be. With a new Dutch government in place, there are signs of greater political will, and now is the moment to turn it into funding.

What comes after the parade

The activists I met have been holding their communities together, standing alongside feminist and queer movements everywhere to defend rights and freedoms for all. As we often say in the gender equality movement, imagine what they could do with the right support. Solidarity beyond the parade means that governments, funders and allies invest in queer aspirations.

Chandreyi Guharay is a Nicaraguan-Indian gender justice specialist by training, and — in Sara Ahmed’s words — a feminist killjoy by political choice. She’s the Global Advocacy Officer at Walking the Talk/Hivos, weaving together strategic advocacy, policy analysis and coalition-building for gender equality financing. She’s previously worked with Oxfam, Plan International, She Decides, CIVICUS, and Share-Net on research, organizational development and political education. Outside of work, you’ll find her co-conspiring with Feministas en Holanda, a decolonial grassroots collective of Latin American people in the Netherlands, where she is a community organizer around anti-racist and migrant justice struggles.

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Trump, Netanyahu, and Putin are all war criminals

We are living in a world of chaos as a result

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From left, Donald Trump, Benjamin Netanyahu and Vladimir Putin. (Photo of Trump by andykatz; photo of Netanyahu by palinchak; photo of Putin by vverve / Bigstock)

Today there are war criminals leading three major governments. President Trump here in the United States, Benjamin Netanyahu in Israel, and Vladimir Putin in Russia. The world would be a better place if they were thrown into a jail cell together, and the key tossed away. 

We are living in a world of chaos. Although these three are not responsible for all of it, they have a major role. All three are carrying out wars that they can’t win. Wars that should have never been started. In the process they are not only killing their stated enemies, but they’re also causing the deaths of their own people. 

Here in the United States, we have a felon in the White House, who has done nothing but create chaos in the world since he took office. He has broken every promise he made to get elected, and while many of us knew they were all lies, he won anyway. He promised lower rents, lower mortgage rates, lower inflation, lower gas prices, lower grocery prices, and importantly, no new wars. He has accomplished the exact opposite in each of those areas. He began a war with Iran and started by bombing a school, mistake or not, killing innocent children. This after declaring war on immigrants here at home using his ICE Gestapo. He apparently thinks if he creates chaos, and then gets things back to close to where they were before he acted, he can claim victory.  But even that seems out of his reach. 

Then there is Prime Minister Netanyahu in Israel. His actions have made things worse not only for his enemies, but for Israelis at home, and Jews around the world. He began a war against Iran that he can’t win. He has committed war crimes against the Palestinian people in Gaza, and the West Bank, and by his actions brought out more anti-Semitism around the world. For me personally, he has made it more difficult to explain to people when I say I am a Zionist, it means I support the existence of the State of Israel, not its war criminal leader, and his government. He should have heeded what President Biden said to him after the Oct. 7 attack on Israel by Hamas. While retribution and getting back the hostages Hamas took was crucial, Biden counseled not to go overboard in response, like the United States did after 9/11. Instead, Netanyahu has killed thousands of Palestinian women and children, and has not made Israel much safer. He then began the war with Iran, and sent troops to fight in Lebanon. Yes, the Iranian government funds Hezbollah and Hamas, but one must ask if anything is better after Netanyahu’s actions. Israelis continue living in a state of active war. 

Then there is Putin in Russia. He believed he could attack Ukraine and walk away with pieces of their country, maybe even all of it. Instead, he has Russia embroiled in a four-year war, killing thousands of Ukrainians, including many women and children, destroying parts of their country, and losing thousands of his own troops in a war he can’t win. His own people are suffering, and now, four years later, Ukraine has shown it still has the ability to attack Moscow. All three of these men have managed to show the weaknesses of their own countries.

In his effort to bluster through his many failures, Trump has destroyed relationships with our allies. It will take years, if ever, for them to trust the United States again. He invaded Venezuela and stole their oil, is starving Cuba, and created unease with Canada and Mexico on our own borders. He thinks this makes him look like a strongman, when it really shows all of his weaknesses. People should remember the treaty he abrogated with Canada and Mexico, was one he negotiated in his first term. Now he invites Chinese President, Xi, to the United States, and gives him the same red-carpet welcome he previously gave to Putin in Alaska, and in both cases, received nothing in return. He tries to keep the press he doesn’t like from having access to him. 

All three are facing crucial elections that could severely impact their futures. Only Putin, a true dictator, is assured of winning because he controls the process. Trump is trying to emulate him, to keep from losing the Nov. 3, mid-term elections. Thankfully the courts are trying to stop him. Netanyahu could face being thrown out on Oct. 27, if Israelis do the right thing. 

Again, I truly believe putting the three of them in a jail cell together would make our troubled world a little safer, and a much better place. 


Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.

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